


Illness...or Insanity? by Predec2

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predec2/pseuds/Predec2





	Illness...or Insanity? by Predec2

  
[Illness...or Insanity?](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=3418) by [Predec2](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewuser.php?uid=773)  


  
Summary: 

Post 513 fic. AU.  Justin has taken this flight numerous times. But he has never encountered this!

  
Categories: [QAF-U.S.](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/browse.php?type=categories&id=99), [Brian/Justin](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/browse.php?type=categories&id=68), [Humor](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/browse.php?type=categories&id=38), [One-Off Fic](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/browse.php?type=categories&id=17), [Halloween](http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/browse.php?type=categories&id=10) Characters:  Brian, Justin  
Challenges: None  
Series: None  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes   
Word count: 2748 Read: 90  
Published: November 01, 2015 Updated: November 01, 2015 

Story Notes:

Just a little belated short fic for Halloween that was inspired by something I saw on Yahoo yesterday.  Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

DISCLAIMER:  QAF and its characters are the sole property of Cowlip and Showtime. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1 by Predec2

Author's Notes:

Justin has taken this flight numerous times. But he has never had THIS happen!

 

 

The glass felt cool as I rested my forehead against the jet's Plexiglas window.  The slight fever I had woken up with earlier in the day was now coming back to me with a vengeance, and I prayed that the difference in altitude on the plane wouldn't make it worse.  If I had been practical, I would have simply remained in New York City this weekend, lying in bed with a bottle of Advil and some throat lozenges on the nightstand.  But I had scheduled this trip to Pittsburgh a month ago (it was my turn to come and visit), and nothing was going to stop me from going home to see Brian. 

 

Despite the fatigue and achiness I felt, I had to smile at the thought of my partner waiting at the airport to greet me.  No matter how many times I reminded him that I could simply take a taxi or even a bus to Kinnetik instead of him driving out there to meet me, he always insisted that he do it himself.  It was highly inconvenient for him occasionally to drop everything at work to come and pick me up - and at the worst possible time on a Friday afternoon battling traffic (this flight being the only non-stop for that day), but still he always insisted on personally greeting me and my familiar duffel bag at the airport; the one I had owned forever, it seemed.  But I always was grateful to see my tall, handsome partner waiting by the passenger return lounge, his eyes boring into mine from the first moment I stepped off the tram taking me to the baggage claim area.  And our ‘reunions' were always quite intense...and extremely satisfying; at least, that is once we discovered a rarely-used restroom off the beaten path near the Lost-and-Found Department.  The handicapped and baby-changing stalls were definitely put to good use when I returned - and were very roomy, too.  And fortunately for us, not many people tended to report anything lost, at least when we were around, anyway. 

 

I closed my eyes as I heard the person on the overhead speaker droning on and on about making sure our carry-on luggage was placed in the overhead compartment wheels first, and how the smaller piece of luggage needed to go under the seat in front of you, yada, yada, yada...  By now I had the spiel memorized after so many back-and-forth trips to see Brian that it was extremely monotonous.  The only thing that ever changed on this particular weekly flight were the passengers, none of which I ever found remotely interesting enough to even sketch in an attempt to help pass the short time until we arrived in Pittsburgh.

 

I heard the familiar soft hiss of the leather seat next to me, signifying that my aisle mate had sat down in the other first-class seat, followed by the click of the safety belt being latched, but I kept my eyes closed and my head pressed against the glass, deriving at least a degree of comfort against the fever wracking my body.  I sniffed the air suddenly, however; even with the congestion presently in my nose, I could still smell the familiar scent of the expensive cologne that Brian typically wore, and a rush of both nostalgia as well as anticipation flooded through me.  Apparently the person next to me had the same taste in fragrance that my partner did. 

 

Curious enough now to discover who had the same predilection for wearing one of Brian's favorite fragrances that he did, I finally opened my eyes, wincing a little as I raised my head and felt a bit of dizziness rear its ugly head.  _Great...just what I need_ , I lamented as my head spun.  As I dared to eventually straighten up in my seat, however, and turned my head to peer over at the person sitting immediately to my left, all thoughts about my present condition promptly disappeared.  For the man who had wound up sitting right next to me was the spitting image of someone I knew intimately, inch by delicious inch. Someone who up until now I had thought was one of a kind.  Someone who couldn't possibly in a million years be sitting here. I couldn't help gasping in reaction as a pair of hazel eyes turned to stare over at me curiously.  _Holy shit._

 

The man smiled at me then, and my heart raced in reaction.  "Do I know you?" he asked me in that same, velvety tone of voice that my lover used.  And just as it always did, my body responded to that voice.  But it couldn't be THAT voice...Could it?  Was I starting to have hallucinations now related to my illness? _Yes, that had to be it_ , I decided.  This couldn't be happening.  But this ‘hallucination' was speaking to me, though.  _Do figments of your imagination actually speak to you?_ I wondered.  But then I decided, what the hell?  I might as well go along with it.  I probably wouldn't remember any of it later, anyway, and this man - whoever he was - would never see me again.  So did it really matter if I made a fool out of myself?  I could think of worse ways to pass my commute time.

 

"Uh...no," I managed to croak out at last as he frowned, and then nodded.  Then I watched as he held his hand out to me.

 

"Kevin Connelly," he told me with a polite smile as he kept his hand extended expectantly. 

 

Wondering just how far my hallucination could go, I finally reached out to grasp the other hand, fully expecting to encounter air, kind of like Patrick Swayze's body passing through Whoopie Goldberg's in _Ghost_.  But to my utmost astonishment, I didn't experience that; instead, I felt a warm, firm hand grasping mine, and I couldn't help pulling my hand back immediately as if it had been burned. 

 

I watched as the man furrowed his brow in concern.  "Are you okay?  You don't look so good...if you don't mind my saying that.  Want me to get the flight attendant for you?" 

 

I dumbly shook my head.  No flight attendant could help me with THIS problem.  "N....No, I don't need the flight attendant."  I squeezed my eyes shut, and then reopened them, fully expecting some fat, bald, gray-haired businessman to be sitting next to me instead as I momentarily regained my brief sense of sanity. But to my astonishment, my lover's lookalike was still there, and still peering at me in concern.  "I don't feel so good," I blurted out. 

 

"You do look a little flushed," the man commented as I heard the overhead speaker announcing that the plane was rolling back from the gate now in preparation for takeoff.  As the aircraft slowly began to back up, I wondered in desperation if it might be possible to change seats with someone, but I knew from previous announcements issued at the gate that the flight was full.   Besides, there would be no way of moving now, not when the plane was about to taxi down the runway. So hallucination or not, I knew I was stuck where I was.  I watched then with widened eyes as my ‘ghost aisle mate' reached over and placed his hand, palm down, against my forehead. 

 

"You're hot," he told me as I stared at him dumbfounded.  That voice...that touch.  _Oh, my God._   Did he just say what I thought he said?  Was this man not only a spitting image of my lover, but gay as well?  _How could I get so lucky?_ I thought, not bothering to see how absurd this all was. Because despite my illness, at the moment all I could think about then was some fantasy of having TWO Brians with me in bed, one fucking my brains out while the other one sucked on my cock.  _Oh, shit_.  Now I was really starting to get hard, even in my incapacitated state.  Putting my hands in my lap to try and disguise my hard-on, my face grew really warm as I finally managed to stammer out intelligently, "What?" 

 

The man finally removed his hand from my forehead as he explained, "You feel like you might have a fever, and now you look kind of pale.  Have you taken anything?  I'd give you some Tylenol," he added with a sympathetic smile, "...but I'm allergic to it, and I don't have anything else.  Are you sure you don't want me to get a flight attendant for you?  I'm not sure if they're allowed to give you anything for your fever, though...My wife always make sure that I carry some kind of pain medication with me, just in case."

 

I stared at him as if he were crazy now.  HE was allergic to Tylenol?  Brian wasn't allergic to Tylenol.  I was.  Wasn't I?  At the moment, I wasn't even sure what my _name_ was, much less my medication history. But maybe THAT was it.  Maybe I had taken Tylenol by mistake, and this was the result.  I shook my head, not sure if my gesture was to answer his question, or an attempt to settle the loose marbles that had to be rattling around in my head.  _What did he just say_?  Oh, yeah...Well, damn.  Maybe he wasn't gay after all.

 

As if to answer my question, he revealed, "This is my first flight, so my stomach's a little queasy myself.  My wife says I'm a big flight baby, as she calls me," he added with a self-deprecating laugh.  "But wouldn't you be, too, if you had never flown at my age?  But I'm on my way back home to see my son after being away for a month, so that's a big incentive.  They drove me up here, but had to go back home a few weeks ago," he explained.  I watched as he reached into his suit pocket and fished out a photograph, holding it up for me to see.  "Here's my boy," the man told me proudly. 

 

I was afraid to look down at what he was holding under my nose.  I knew he was expecting me to take a peek at it, but if I did - and his son turned out to look like Gus - then I knew I was in big trouble.  I knew that would be the point when I realized I had finally gone insane.  My waspish upbringing, however, forced me to tentatively cast my eyes downward, anyway, and my eyes bulged in their sockets.  The ‘son' this man was so proudly referring to didn't look like Gus at all, even though he did have dark hair, and I did recognize him.  No.  No resemblance at all.  Instead, he looked like the spitting image of a six-year-old Michael Novotny.    And not only that, he was sitting in the lap of someone who looked just like Melanie.  Yes, THAT Melanie...

 

"Handsome, isn't he?" The Brian clone commented.  "Typical six-year-old.  Loves comics!" he told me with a chuckle.  "Can't get enough of Spiderman and Batman.  He's always dragging me to the Big Q whenever a new action figure comes out.  But I confess I don't have to really be talked into it very much.  He's such a great kid that I can't say no."  He pointed to the dark-haired woman smiling in the photo.  "And that's my wife.  Isn't she beautiful?  She's an attorney by trade," he added helpfully.  "But she's staying home for the time being to raise our son.  In fact, she's pregnant again. Isn't that great?" 

 

I found that I couldn't get my lips to work anymore as he frowned at my expression.  "Oh, shit. You really DO look bad.  Do you want a barf bag?  I heard they have those in the pocket."   

 

A barf bag wouldn't cut it, I thought miserably as my head continued to swim...and I feared I was about to drown from the insanity.  I shook my head in denial and squeezed my eyes shut again...just before I fainted dead away.  In my semi-comatose state, however, I thought I could hear the Brian clone trying to speak to me...

 

"Justin?  Justin, wake up!" 

 

_How did this man know my name?_   _I didn't give him my name. Did I?_ I fleetingly wondered as I blissfully remained unconscious, hoping that despite my fear regarding my sanity, maybe I could at least indulge myself a bit and dream about the Brian threesome I had envisioned earlier.  _Now, that would be worth going crazy for_ , I decided, as a dreamy sort of smile appeared on my face. 

 

I frowned in my deluded state a few seconds later as I felt what seemed like someone shaking my shoulder.  _These hallucinations sure are real_ , I thought, as the shaking got more pronounced.  Was I shivering from fever?  I heard that could happen.  "Go away, whoever you are," I mumbled in my delirium, but the shaking was persistent...as was the familiar voice that kept hammering in my head. 

 

I tried to keep my eyes tightly shut, thinking that my seat felt awfully comfortable to be on an airplane.  "No!  I want to be fucked first!" I protested, as my eyes fluttered open eventually, resigned to the fact that I was not going to have my fantasy fulfilled...at least not this time. 

 

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the ceiling of the plane.  It didn't resemble any ceiling I had ever seen on a plane.  For one thing, it was high. Really, really high. And it was dim in the cabin.  Had everyone lowered their shades? But why would they do that in the middle of the day? They had never done that before when I had taken this flight, and I had flown this same flight numerous times. Was there a storm? Was that it?  Maybe that's why I felt like someone was shaking me. Maybe we were experience turbulence.  Yeah...that must be it.  But then I heard the Brian clone speaking again, and it was then that I realized I was also lying flat on my back.  Maybe I had reclined my seat somehow? But if I had reclined it THIS much, I would be lying right on top of the passenger behind me...I don't think he would like that, either....Was that even allowed?

 

"JUSTIN!  For God's sake, wake up!" I heard the lookalike roar then, and I opened my eyes wider...to discover that I wasn't in a plane after all.  I was lying in a bed...mine and Brian's bed.  At Britin.  How did I get here?

 

I turned my head to see Brian's face looming over me in the dimness.  "Where?  What?  How?  Who?"  I felt like some ridiculous version of a news reporter as I stared up at him and blinked to make sure the vision wouldn't disappear. But he was still there when I opened my eyes back up...only now he didn't have any clothes on. And for that matter, neither did I.  _When did THAT happen?_  

 

I heard Brian/Kevin sigh then.  "Justin...how many times have I told you NOT to drink that damn Red Bull just before you go to bed? This is the LAST time I let you do that just so you can finish a painting!"  He shook his head.  "We need to go back to sleep so I have enough energy later to keep up with Gus and his trick-or-treating.  You know he'll want to hit every house within a two-mile radius when he gets here...and know how he is when he gets on a sugar buzz."  He smirked then as he moved to drape his long, lean, body over mine as he added, "But first I'll take care of that little request you made in your sleep." 

 

I grinned then.  Thankfully my dream had been so vivid that I could especially recall that part as well.  "If you only knew," I thought to myself as he began to pepper kisses all along my jawline, and his hands began to slide down my arms. The fantasy I had imagined would have been amazing.  But as we began to make love for the countless time, I decided that one Brian was more than enough for me. 

 

 

End Notes:

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=3418>  



End file.
